


make a move

by medicinedrunk



Series: so into you [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Coda, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27241579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/medicinedrunk/pseuds/medicinedrunk
Summary: Zayn and Harry are moving in together.A short coda to into you, as a treat.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Harry Styles
Series: so into you [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1989007
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	make a move

The smell of leaf mold and earth is filtering through a couple inches of open window, carried on the crisp autumn breeze, cooling the sweat on Harry’s brow. The golden light of dusk streams through the glass, staining the cream-coloured walls. Next to him, Zayn lets out a grunt, setting his end of the couch down in the third spot Harry had insisted on moving it to.

“My arms are about to fall right off,” he’d whined after the second time.

“These things take consideration and planning, Zayn,” Harry had replied absently, studying the placement of the couch, and then, “No, this isn’t right. How about over there?”

Zayn had just groaned and muttered under his breath as they moved to pick up the couch once more.

“Please tell me you’re happy with it here,” he says now, as they step back to observe the setup for their new living room. _Theirs_ , as in _their own place_ , just for the two of them. Harry still can’t believe it, excitement bubbling up in his chest again. He’s been carrying a burst of light in his chest ever since they decided to move in together.

“It’s perfect,” he says, grinning happily at Zayn, and the other man cheers.

“At last, rest for my poor muscles,” Zayn sighs wryly, just as Harry says, “On to the dinner table! We can take care of the coffee table and TV later, they’re light.”

Zayn just collapses facedown on the couch with another groan.

“Come on, you can sit while we assemble it,” Harry says, nudging Zayn’s calf with his foot, before bouncing across the room to grab the brown IKEA box with their new table. 

Louis kept most of the furniture from Zayn and his apartment, insisting it was compensation for Harry taking his roommate and best friend, so a lot of the things in their new place are from Harry’s old flat, which suits them just fine. The couch especially, with its sentimental value and memories, the tattoos they gave each other sitting there, and their first time together right after. And the many more times after that.

The coffee table and TV set are also from Harry’s old flat, as is most of the kitchenware, while their bed is Zayn’s, indisputably comfier than Harry’s old one, and they each brought their own bedside tables.

And that leaves the dining room set up. Neither of their old places had a proper one, the inhabitants opting to eat either at the kitchen counter or the coffee table. Having one now makes Harry feel grown up. Like this is their first adult place. Like they’re settling down, even if this isn’t a forever place.

Zayn finally heaves himself off the couch dramatically to follow when Harry makes his way into the kitchen, huffing under the weight of the box. He sets it down at the far end, under the window there, and out of the way of the counters and appliances that line either side of the narrow room. He grabs the scissors off the counter, left there after opening some boxes earlier, and gets to work unpacking the various pieces of table.

When he looks over his shoulder, he catches Zayn ogling is ass as he leans over the mess of packaging, wood, and metal on the floor. He smirks lazily when he catches Harry’s eye.

“I like you in those,” he says, nodding at Harry’s sweatpants.

“I know you do,” Harry retorts, smirking back.

“Mhm, I can think of much better things for my hands to do than assemble all that junk.”

Harry snorts, but he can’t help the way he squirms a bit at the suggestion.

“After,” he says, mildly reprimanding Zayn with a look. “Babe, come on! I wanna see how our place looks all put together.”

He pouts his lips at the other man, whose face immediately softens, eyes crinkling back at him.

“Yeah, alright,” he concedes, getting down on his knees to help Harry sort the various bolts and bits into piles.

~

After about forty-five minutes of slotting and screwing pieces of wood together, a few minor mishaps, and a fair bit of playful bickering, they step back to admire their work, stretching their backs and limbs after all the bending over.

“Done,” Harry says, beaming as he takes in the sight in front of him, Zayn taking his hand and squeezing, grinning back at him.

The table is simple, square, stained pine top and white legs, and it fits perfectly under the window. It can seat four or five people, if they squeeze together. It’ll be snug, for sure, but that’s just another word for cozy, and Harry reckons it’s perfect.

He can already envision a few of their loved ones crowded into the little space for dinner on a cold winter night, the yellow overhead lights buzzing around them, the sound of laughter and smell of stew thickening the air. He tucks this vision of the kitchen like a jewel between his ribs, as his thoughts are disrupted by Zayn laughing.

“What is it?” he asks, pouting when Zayn just giggles again.

“We forgot chairs.”

Harry just stares at him wide-eyed, mouth open, and then bursts into a fit of giggles himself. It’s been a long day, clearly.

“We can go back to IKEA tomorrow and pick some up,” Zayn says when they’ve both settled down, squeezing Harry’s hand again, before dragging him back towards the living room. “Let’s get everything else sorted.”

~

It’s fully dark out by the time they’ve finished getting the rest of the furniture organized, and then finding places for the rest of their things, and Harry feels exhausted after the long day of moving, but deeply content too.

He folds himself into a corner of the couch, now arranged nicely with the television stand and coffee table in front of it, a leafy potted plant and the TV remotes sitting on top of the latter. Zayn takes the other side, tangling his legs with Harry’s and pulling out his phone to order pizza, while Harry browses Netflix for something to watch, eventually settling on the Half-Blood Prince.

Once Zayn is done with the order, Harry crawls awkwardly across the couch, long limbs everywhere, and plops down on top of him. Zayn lets out a grunt, but otherwise just adjusts his position to accommodate the Harry-shaped sloth now settled in his lap.

They could fall asleep like this, Harry thinks, lying on _their_ couch, in _their_ flat. It makes the burst of light in his chest shine through his teeth, a grin he can’t contain.

He wraps his arms around Zayn’s shoulders and buries his face in the other man’s neck, nosing at the still sweaty skin, and his breath must tickle, because Zayn shivers, wrapping his own arms around Harry’s waist tightly. Like he knows Harry wants to be held in place forever.

“Imagine the life we’re going to have here. Together.”

Zayn hums and reaches up to brush his hand back through Harry’s curls, then presses his lips to Harry’s temple.

“Can we get a dog now?” he mumbles against Harry’s skin.

“Tomorrow,” he whispers back, exhaling, before shaking himself out and leaning back to look at Zayn. He smirks down at his boyfriend. His _home._ “Right now I want to know more about those other things your hands can do.”


End file.
